"The northern wards have been breached!" a guard yelled, bursting in with a pale face.

"What?" Fabian's expression hardened as he bolted out the door, Gloria right behind him.

I let out a shaky breath.

There was no time to think about the knife twisting in my gut.

This was my only chance to escape.

I darted out from behind the curtain and ran.

If I could just get out of the main house, I could take the Moon Goddess's Tear to the Elder.

I was only borrowing it. Once the mate bond was broken, I could leave for good.

But as I sprinted into the courtyard, I slammed straight into a hard chest.

It was Fabian, rushing back in, carrying someone in his arms.

The person was covered in blood. It was Gloria.

The impact sent me stumbling, and the Moon Goddess's Tear flew from my hand.

It clattered across the stone floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the sudden silence.

"Healer!" Fabian roared, his eyes filled with panic and murder. "Save her, now!"

"What happened?" my mother cried, rushing over and collapsing when she saw Gloria.

"She was patrolling near the wards and got caught in the blast," Fabian's voice was like ice. "Someone deliberately sabotaged the wards. They're trying to kill us!"

The healer scrambled to treat Gloria while everyone scanned the crowd for the culprit.

But then she weakly opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto me, then shifting in horror to the gem at my feet.

"Sister," she whimpered, her voice a pathetic whisper. "Where were you? I... I thought I felt you near the wards... And... is that... the Moon Goddess's Tear? The heart of our wards?"

In an instant, every eye in the place was on me.

A thousand daggers.

"I…" I tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come.

Fabian's second-in-command stepped forward, picked up the Moon Goddess's Tear, and then produced another object—a black, jagged stone.

"Alpha," he said, his voice grave. "We found this at the breach." He held up a jagged, black demon stone. "It has Luna Hazel's spiritual signature all over it. What's more, the theft of the Moon Goddess's Tear is the direct cause of the ward's failure!"

Dead silence.

Then, an explosion of hisses and curses.

"Oh my gods! It really was her!"

"She stole the artifact and destroyed the wards! Why would she betray the pack?"

"And she's supposed to be our Luna? She's a traitor!"

I stared blankly, my mind a void.

"I didn't do it!" I cried out, my voice raw. "I only took the Tear to sever the bond! I never touched the wards!"

"Still lying!" My mother's hand cracked across my face.

"Enough."

A low voice cut through the noise.

Fabian walked slowly toward me. He gently handed the "injured" Gloria to the healer.

Then, his Alpha aura slammed into me, knocking me back.

His eyes held no anger, no disappointment.

Only pure disgust and contempt.

"Hazel," his voice was dangerously low, colder than a winter grave. "I always knew you were pathetic. I just never realized you were this vile."

He strode forward.

He reached out, not to help me up, but to grab my jaw, forcing my head up to meet his gaze.

"Tell me, what did I ever deny you? Was the title of Luna not enough? Was hurting me not enough? Did you have to drag Gloria and the entire pack into your petty revenge?"

His nails dug into my skin.

I looked at his face, so close to mine.

The face I once loved enough to die for was now twisted with revulsion for me.

Maybe I would never get to leave.

The strain on my failing mate bond sent a sharp pain through my chest.

But nothing hurt more than the contempt from my own fated mate.

A laugh bubbled up out of my chest, raw and broken.

"You're laughing? You dare to laugh?" My smile enraged him, and his grip tightened.

I met his icy gaze, my voice clear and steady. "Of course I'm laughing. Because I've just realized something…"

Then I said, each word a shard of ice,

"Betraying you... is the smartest thing I've ever done."

The moment the words left my mouth, the disgust in Fabian's eyes erupted into pure rage.

"It seems the Silver Room is the only place fit for a traitor like you!" He shoved me away, and I stumbled, nearly falling.

"You wanted to break our mate bond? If you make it out of the Silver Room alive, you'll get your wish."

My father's face was ashen. He pointed a trembling finger at me. "You have brought nothing but shame to our family! For the honor of this pack, I must punish this betrayal!"

He turned to the captain of the guard, his voice like thunder. "Lock her in the Silver Room! Three days! Until she atones for her treason!"

My blood ran cold. The Silver Room. It was a torture chamber lined with every werewolf's hell.

For a second, I thought about just letting go, letting myself die.

But then I thought of New Moon City, of the hope I still had to escape, and I tried to defend myself one last time.

"Wait! Taking the Tear was my fault, but the wards had nothing to do with me…"

Before I could finish, two guards grabbed my arms.

"Scared now? It's too late!" my mother sneered.

"Please, wait," Gloria pleaded weakly. "Isn't three days too harsh? Sister was just injured…"

"She needs to learn the meaning of shame and loyalty!" my father roared. "A month wouldn't be enough!"

I was dragged out of the hall. Guests scrambled to get out of my way, as if I carried a plague.

"Let go of me! I'll walk myself!" I struggled.

The guards hauled me down a long corridor, deep into the dungeons.

The Silver Room was tiny, maybe two square meters. The walls were covered in a dense pattern of silver nails, chains, and crosses.

The air shimmered with the cold, metallic gleam of silver.

"Get in!" one guard grunted, shoving me inside.

CLANG! The iron door slammed shut.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

I tried to sit carefully against the door, but my back brushed against the silver studs on the wall.

"Argh—!"

Searing pain exploded through me. My skin sizzled, my very blood felt like it was boiling. It was the unique agony only silver can inflict on a wolf.

I lurched forward, but in this cramped space, there was nowhere to go.

Everywhere was silver.

Every movement was a fresh burn.

Every breath was agony.

An hour passed.

Then two.

The silver continued to scorch my skin. My dress was burned through, and my flesh began to blister.

First sweat. Then violent shivers. Then my lungs burned for air.

"Help me…" I whispered, weakly banging on the iron door. "Anyone… I need water… please…"

No response.

"I was wrong… I'm sorry… please, just let me out…"

Still, only silence.

My voice grew hoarse. My palms were raw and bleeding from pounding on the door.

"Mom… please… I'm your daughter… please…"

For the first time, I begged so humbly, so desperately.

But no one answered.

I don't know how long it was before I finally heard footsteps outside.

"Sister? Are you still alive in there?"

It was Gloria's sweet voice.

"Gloria!" I gasped, clinging to the sound like a lifeline. "Help me… I'm dying… Please, tell them to let me out…"

"Oh, that does sound painful," her voice was laced with fake sympathy. "The silver burns, doesn't it?"

"Please… I'll do anything… Just let me out…"

"But you're a traitor," she cooed, her voice dripping poison disguised as pity. "This is what you deserve."

"I didn't! You framed me!"

"Proof?" her voice sharpened. "Everyone saw your scent signature on the ward-breaker stone. What proof do you have that it was me?"

I sagged against the cold iron door, the burn on my back a constant reminder of my helplessness. She was right. I had no proof.

"And even if I did frame you, so what?" Her voice turned venomous. "Who's going to believe a traitor? Who's going to stand up to me for a piece of trash like you?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" I sobbed. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Because I despise everything about you," she hissed, her voice pure venom. "I hate that you exist. I hate that you carry his mark. I hate that you breathe the same air as the man who should be mine."

"But you can't change blood…"

"Blood means nothing," she sneered. "Look at us now. Who looks more like their daughter? You, whining in the Silver Room? Or me, being pampered outside?"

She was right. Even as their trueborn, they loved her more.

"Oh, by the way, I have something to show you," she said excitedly. "I promise you'll love it."

She held her communicator up to the small slit in the door.

The screen showed a cozy scene.

Fabian was lying in bed, with Gloria curled up in his arms.

"You've had such a rough night," Fabian murmured, stroking her hair. "It's all that woman's fault. I'm sorry you were frightened."

"It's okay," Gloria cooed. "As long as you're here, I'm not afraid of anything."

"My sweet girl," Fabian whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Including her."

"Fabian, will you love me forever?"

"Of course," his voice was so deep, so tender. "You're my one and only. My wolf howls only for you. Always."

They started kissing then, a deep, passionate kiss.

Like true lovers.

I watched it all, thinking of the 100 things in my journal.

Thinking of how I was once willing to die for just one kind glance from him.

Thinking of how I believed that if I just tried hard enough, I could earn his love.

"See?" Gloria said smugly, putting her device away. "That's how much he loves me. And you? You're nothing."

Her voice became even crueler.

"Oh, and Fabian? He just told me he hopes you rot in here. That way, he'll never have to see your pathetic face again."

Every word was a knife, carving up my heart.

"And your parents," she continued. "They were just saying how they wish you'd never come back. That way, they wouldn't have such a shameful daughter."

I huddled in the corner, tears streaming down my face.

But strangely, after the searing pain, a sense of relief washed over me.

I remembered a line from my journal, written on a day I felt completely hopeless: "If my wolf ever stops responding to you, it's because my heart has died."

My heart was dead now.

The wolf inside me, the one that had howled for him, was silent. It was dead.

The girl who begged for her parents' love was dead.

The fool who thought she could earn a monster's heart was dead.

"Not talking anymore?" Gloria taunted, kicking the door. "Feeling hopeless? Full of regret?"

I let out a dry, rattling laugh. "Thank you," I rasped.

Gloria recoiled. "What?"

"Thank you," I repeated, my voice clear despite the pain. "For finally setting me free."

"Are you insane?"

I didn't answer. I just closed my eyes.

The silver still burned, but my mind was clearer than ever.

I was just glad I didn't have to do it anymore.

Glad I didn't love him anymore.

"What are you playing at?" Gloria yelled, kicking the door again. "You're just a piece of trash that everyone's thrown away!"

Her voice faded as she walked away.

I was alone in the dark again, my consciousness slowly slipping away.

Just as I thought I was about to die, I heard the hushed voices of two guards outside my door.

"Such a pity. But she destroyed the pack's wards. She deserves it."

"Shh… keep your voice down. I heard the Alpha already gave the order. If she doesn't confess to 'sabotaging the wards' in three days…"

"What happens then? Life in the dungeons?"

"Worse," the second guard whispered. "They're going to execute her at sunrise."

Three days later, the door to the Silver Room finally opened.

The blinding light made me flinch.

My skin was a mess of burns from the silver, each one a reminder of the hell I’d just endured.

A guard stared at me, his face blank, as I crawled out.

"Time's up," the lead guard said coldly. "The Alpha wants to see you."

I staggered to my feet, every wound screaming in protest.

I wasn't taken back to my rooms. I was escorted directly to the Alpha's main house.

Fabian was standing by the window. He didn't even turn to look at me.

"Have you made up your mind?" His voice was colder than the Silver Room. "Confess, and I might show mercy. Refuse, and you'll sacrifice your power to the wards. This is your last chance."

I bit my lip, my body trembling with pain and rage, but I said nothing.

"Fine," he said with a slight laugh. "Perhaps seeing her family will bring her to her senses."

I was brought to the dining hall. The long table was laden with a feast, all for Gloria.

Golden roasted venison, fragrant fish soup, crystal-clear honey, and blood-red moonberries.

My portion was a bowl of watery gruel.

" Gloria, you're still weak," my mother said with fake concern. "You should only eat something light."

Gloria sat at the head of the table while Fabian served her himself.

"This venison is perfect, my love. Try some," he murmured, his voice a soft caress as he placed the tenderest cut on her plate.

"And I had this soup made just for you. It's good for your recovery."

I silently ate my tasteless porridge. It tasted like my life.

"Sister, why aren't you talking?" Gloria asked with concern. "If you just apologize to Fabian, I'm sure he'll forgive you."

Her words were poison, each one a little push toward a confession for a crime I didn't commit.

I lifted my bowl and took a sip.

Strange. The soup had a bitter taste.

"This soup is…?"

"What's wrong with it?" my mother asked.

"Nothing." I shook my head and kept eating.

But a few minutes later, I started to feel dizzy.

My limbs grew heavy, my blood felt sluggish, and it became hard to breathe.

I knew this feeling.

Wolfsbane.

An herb that could paralyze a werewolf's system.

I looked at Gloria in shock. She was busy talking to Fabian, but a flicker of triumph crossed her eyes.

I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't work.

"Not feeling well?" Gloria asked, feigning surprise. "You look a little pale."

I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue was numb.

Just then, Gloria "accidentally" knocked over her soup bowl.

The scalding liquid splashed directly onto my arm.

A scream tore from my lips. This wasn't just hot soup. It was laced with liquid silver.

My skin sizzled, the smell of burning flesh filling the air.

I fell from my chair, writhing on the floor in pain.

"Oh my gods! Gloria!"

Fabian rushed over in an instant. Not to me, but to Gloria.

"Did you get burned?" he asked, anxiously checking her hands.

"I'm fine, my hand is just a little red," Gloria said, her eyes welling with tears. "It's all my fault, I'm so clumsy…"

"It's not your fault," Fabian said, kissing her fingers. "I'll have the healer look at it right away."

He scooped Gloria into his arms as if she were made of porcelain. As he strode past, he shot me a look of pure disgust. "You still haven't learned your lesson," he warned, his voice dripping ice. "The execution is still on."

Then they were gone.

Leaving me alone on the cold floor, the silver-laced soup continuing to eat away at my skin.

My parents followed them out, not sparing me a single glance.

I don't know how long I lay there before a young healer finally arrived.

"Gods, you're so badly burned!" he gasped. "Any later and the wolfsbane would have stopped your heart!"

He quickly tended to my wounds, injecting me with an antidote.

"Who gave you wolfsbane?" he asked angrily. "This poison is enough to kill a werewolf!"

I didn't answer. It wouldn't have mattered.

As the healer finished treating me, his expression grew more and more serious.

He checked my pulse again and again, studying the color of the blood around my wounds, his brow furrowed.

"Strange…" he muttered.

"What is it?" I asked weakly.

He looked up, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and awe. "When I was cleansing the silver poison, I had to probe your wolf soul… Gods, I have never encountered a soul so pure, so powerful."

I stared at him, confused.

The healer took a shaky breath, his voice trembling with awe and terror. "You don't understand. Your soul... it's the purest I have ever seen. For them to do this to you... they're not just punishing you. They're digging their own graves."

He looked at me, his eyes wide with horror. "You must escape now! They're trying to rip the soul out of this pack, and they're going to burn us all to the ground."